Prayer is the pulse without which we don’t
bless. Or breathe at all. Or even borrow
from our basic need to communicate.
Sons cannot reach out to brothers and their
from our basic need to communicate.
Sons cannot reach out to brothers and their
daughters will not feel the expectation
coming from the kindred spirit in a
home detached from presences inactive.
When seasons with the snow start flaking down
we’ve made assurances that through the frost
nothing will impede our inclination
to prepare our children and within us
pamper the child that never quite grew up.
Their inherent sweetness is sufficient
stockings will be to the rafters lambent.
by Abraham de la Torre
